


i'm a better man, since i've loved you

by katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: basically daddy!killian with angst and fluff at the same time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark/pseuds/katniss_annabeth_luna_mellark
Summary: The winds raged that night, howling against the waves as they crested and drenched the deck. The crew groaned, a few of the deckhands not yet accustomed to the roughness of the sea. Some of them had only boarded the vessel at the last port. The Captain had little patience for those who couldn’t keep up aboard his ship.“The Captain!” the young girl exclaimed, “That’s you, right, Daddy?”I stopped the story briefly, breaking out of the memory if only for a moment to respond. “Yes, my little cygnet, I suppose it is. Now hush and listen.”





	i'm a better man, since i've loved you

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this as an assignment for uni and thought I may as well share it! A ton of daddy!Killian feels and also slight angst.
> 
> Title from 'Better Man' by Lady Antebellum.
> 
> Thanks to katana_fleet for reading this through!
> 
> Enjoy!

The winds raged that night, howling against the waves as they crested and drenched the deck. The crew groaned, a few of the deckhands not yet accustomed to the roughness of the seas. Some of them had only just boarded the vessel at the last port. The Captain had little patience for those who couldn’t keep up aboard his ship.

_"The Captain!” the young girl exclaimed, “That’s you, right, Daddy?”_

_I stopped the story briefly, breaking out of the memory if only for a moment to respond. “Yes, my little cygnet, I suppose it is. Now hush and listen.”_

He had reputations to uphold. Even under the harsh conditions, rain streaming down sideways, the ropes of the rigging swinging backwards and forwards like the pendulum of a grandfather clock, he expected more from his crew.

After all, the _Jolly Roger_ was a ship feared by all.

Despite the conditions, the Captain stood stoic as ever at the helm, looking over his crew with distaste.

_“Liam, Mummy and me are better than that crew right?”_

_“Well of course love.”_

He knew the villages were suffering; he’d seen the evidence himself. Farms were failing to deliver grain; bakers therefore failed to deliver bread. The people were starving. So it made sense, he supposed, that those he took on board were weaker than usual, however hard he tried to pick out the good ones.

There were only so many of those to be found at a tavern. In fact, most who came into his service were drunks, wasting away and ready to live out their days at the bottom of a glass.

_"What does ‘drunk’ mean Daddy?” I stumbled for a moment, unsure how to answer to such a young child._

_“It means they were very, very tired.”_

_“Well then, I’m feeling quite drunk right now!” the little girl replied, her words half muffled by a wide yawn._

_I winced at her words, silently praying her mother never heard her saying something like that._

Among the half-hearted, motley crew the Captain had gathered at the last port, there was one man who stood out. Even now, when all the disgraced low-lives stumbled about, he worked diligently. The Captain moved, boots clambering down the steps to the main deck with a precise movement. A few of the workers looked up from their lazy conversations and attempted to look busy.

He ignored them, making a note to do something about them later. Ideally something painful.

_“Painful? But you can’t hurt them, Daddy, please!” sitting straight up in bed, now very awake, the little girl’s eyes widened at the talk of violence._

_“It’s not me, love.”_

_“But you said before, it was!” she insisted, crossing her arms across her small chest._

_“Just keep listening to the story.” I insisted, gently urging her to lay back against her pillows, her eyes slowly closing as I did, her defiance truly just bravado like her parents._

“What’s your name, sailor?” the Captain asked, peering down at the man furiously scrubbing the deck. He didn’t even look up to reply.

“Barnaby, Captain. Barnaby Smith.” the man, Barnaby, did look up then, his dull eyes meeting the Captain’s for only a moment before they darted away. There was something to be said about the piercing gaze of the Captain, bright blue eyes that were considered beautiful by women and haunting by his crew.

_“Mummy always says she loves your eyes.”_

The Captain let out a deep chuckle, kicking the brush away from the worker.

“Smith, hm? Blacksmith, I’d take it then?”

A curt nod.

“Yes. Well, I must say you do look the part!” the Captain peered up and down the man’s person, taking in the black coat and dust that had long since become permanent in his smile lines. The hard lines and scorched skin of his hands the result of many hours at a furnace no doubt.

The Captain heard muffled laughter from the crew around him.

“OI!” he yelled, the booming sound cutting the silent air like a knife, “GET BACK TO WORK! HOW’S A SHIP SUPPOSED TO RUN WITH A CREW OF IMBECILES!”

To their credit, none of them were stupid enough to respond.

“Now mind your own bloody business, or you’ll be next.”

_“You’re scary when you yell, Daddy. I’ve heard you.” she nodded as if trying to convince me, “Like when Liam and I don’t share toys, or when someone interrupts you and Mummy when you’re…”_

_My eyes widened as my mind registered what she had said. “Okay, little one, let’s go back to the story, shall we?”_

“Did you need anything else, sir?” Barnaby inquired, daring another look up at the Captain. This time, he held his stare. The act of bravery, plus his evident dedication to the slave-work, piqued the Captain’s interest.

“What’s your story, Smith?”

The man clearly wasn’t expecting a reply, stopping mid-action, reaching to retrieve the brush that lay a few feet away from him. The Captain waited, somewhat patiently, to no avail. He hiked up his trousers and slowly knelt on one knee, leaning into the sailor’s space.

“When I ask you something, mate,” the Captain began, popping the ‘t’, “you reply, without question.” From this distance, he could practically feel the man trembling. “I’ll ask you again. What’s your story?”

Whether it was the close proximity or the threat, the worker answered immediately.

“Yes, I’m a blacksmith. I was the only one earning for my family, but my shop was burnt down. I couldn’t afford to rebuild it so I needed a way to move on.”

The Captain could hear the sincerity in his voice, but couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew what happened to people who used family as their motivation. He had been one of them.

He _was_ one of them. 

_“And I still am, little one.” I interjected, this time being the one to interrupt first, “You and Liam and your mother are everything to me.”_

_The little girl had a sleepy smile on her face. “I know Daddy. I love you too.”_

“Family?” the Captain asked, looking around at their surroundings, “And where are they now? Or were you too much of a coward to face them?”

He saw the sailor tense at the question, eyes darting around suspiciously.

The Captain knew that look, had worn one similar on his face many years ago. The look you wear when you have someone you’re protecting.

That’s what family did to a man.

“Smee?” the Captain yelled out, a short and stout man appearing nearly instantly by his side, red beanie flapping in the wind, “Go take a gander in our friend’s bunk, would you?”

The man, muscles tensed almost to the point of breaking, jerked and pushed himself up onto his feet.

“No!” he mumbled, loud enough for the Captain to hear. He took a few hurried steps forward, an attempt to run after the first mate. After years of sailing with scoundrels in close quarters, the Captain’s reflexes were better than most. He wrapped an arm around the man’s chest, keeping him still until Smee returned.

By this time, the rest of the crew had ceased their work, watching on with curiosity, not even worried about keeping up the appearance of hard work.

The next thing the Captain heard was a shrieking cry coming from below deck. A distinctly _female_ cry. Which would have been fine if the Captain had picked up a wench at the last tavern. But he hadn’t.

Moments later, the short man made his way back to the Captain, a large grin full of suspense and expectation plastered across his face. Trailing behind him was a woman, her long dark hair streaming behind her like a tangled web. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her mouth distorted in a cry. The Captain, satisfied with what he’d found, turned back to look at the man standing before him.

If the woman’s face was full of fear, it was nothing compared to what rested on her husband’s. It was pure terror and dread, as well as a full knowledge of what the Captain could do.

 _Would_ do.

“T _hat poor woman! And the man! They were just trying to stay_ together. _Nothing’s going to happen to her, right, Daddy?”_

_I stopped, wondering not for the first time if this story wasn’t suitable for such a young audience. But it was important for her to hear._

_“She’ll be fine, darling, I promise.”_

“Please don’t touch my wife! Please don’t hurt her!” the man begged, straining against the arms that held him back.

The Captain reacted with mock hurt.

“Hurt her? Do you really think that low of me, Barnaby? No, she won’t be hurt, I can guarantee it. Touched, on the other hand…”

The Captain made his way towards the woman, blocking out her husband’s cries as he roughly grabbed her waist, pulling the hysterical woman closer and forcing his mouth on hers.

It didn’t last long before he turned back to the man in front of him him.

“You really thought it would be a good idea to smuggle your wife on board?” he raised an eyebrow, tapping a finger over his lip, enjoying the sniggers coming from his crew behind him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s not her fault.”

The man stilled, expecting what would come next.

“It’s yours.”

All cries and noise stopped, like a hush falling over a crowd before actors took the stage.

The Captain, moving slowly but precisely, made his way towards the man, who, despite his silence, had once again begun to struggle. The Captain pulled his sword out of its scabbard and pointed it directly at the sailor’s neck.

“Any last words?” he asked rhetorically. Not waiting for any response, the Captain swung back his arm for a searing blow, but he stopped mid-action.

“You are heartless,” the man said, voice strong, “You know nothing about family, or love. You’ll spend the rest of your life wasting away, not knowing what it’s like to…”

_“STOP STOP STOP! Daddy, I don’t want to hear anymore!”_

_I ceased immediately, giving her a minute. I knew this was going to be hard. But it was necessary, especially after what people had been saying at the diner…_

_“Are you okay, love?” The little girl nodded slowly, coming out of her shell in her own time._

_“Daddy,” she began. I knew what questions would be coming, “Why did you tell me such a horrible story? And was it really about you?”_

_I let out a sigh. I had been dreading this day since the day she’d been born. The day I’d have to tell her the truth about myself and my past._

_“Aye, love, well…” I stumbled over my words, “In a sense, that_ was _me in the story. I remember all of it, every detail. As for why I told you,” I leaned over, wiping a tear away from her cheek, “it’s important for you to know the truth. That I was once a very different man before I met your mother. A man like the Captain in the story. But no longer.”_

_I watched as her brows furrowed, could practically see the wheels turning in her head,_

_“Like what the people were talking about in the diner the other day?”_

_I nodded, moving over to lay beside her on top of the covers, “I need you to know that no matter what you hear people saying, about me or the past, I’m a different person than the man that did all those things. No matter what they tell you, or what you hear, I love you more than anything. I promise you, cygnet, I worked hard to be better and there’s nothing else I’d rather…”_

_“I know, Daddy.”_

_Her little voice nearly broke my heart._

_“I know how much you love us. You’re the best daddy in the whole world, no matter what.”_

_Before I could reply, I looked across at my little girl who had lost her fight with sleep, her mouth slightly open, letting out small little breaths._

_His little girl asleep._

_Down the hall was his son, an exact replica of himself._

_Across the hall was his wife, his True Love, his everything._

_The house full. His family full._

_His heart full._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
